


What It All Comes Down To (I Feel The Earth Move)

by Chaos_Bandit (TableForThree)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Impregnation, Political coupling, Pregnancy, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TableForThree/pseuds/Chaos_Bandit
Summary: After the Battle of Five Armies, Legolas leaving puts Thranduil in an awkward position. Traditions and customs demand that he must have another heir should something happen, and the recently banished captain of the guard Tauriel just so happens to be the only elf who can do the job. Thranduil has no choice but to bring her back to Mirkwood and somehow explain to her that she must carry his child.





	1. Someone Like You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme:](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14785.html?thread=26776769#t26776769)
> 
> "Legolas leaving at the end of BotFA was actually a political move to save Tauriel.
> 
> There is an old elven custom of sorts, that a prince/princess may not leave home unless they have at least one younger sibling to carry on the line should something happen to them.
> 
> This gets a bit tricky if one of the parents is dead, so half-siblings are allowed, usually birthed by a close friend or trusted advisor to the ruling royalty. This is expected to take place before the heir to the throne leaves, but in certain surprise situations it can happen after, as long as it's nearly immediate.
> 
> Legolas up and leaving puts Thranduil in a tricky political position where he needs to have another child, and fast, but the closest thing he has to a female advisor/friend is either Galadriel, who is verymuch spoken for (as well as in Lothlorien), or his banished captain of the guard - Tauriel.
> 
> Thanks to Legolas, Thranduil now has no choice but to bring her back.
> 
> And he has to figure out how to explain to her that she's got to bear his child."
> 
> TW: Obviously this is going to have EXTREME dubious consent. There will be no full on non-con but just bear that in mind. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

Legolas had known what he was doing, Thranduil was sure of that.

After everything had happened the elven king was ashamed to admit he hadn’t even been thinking about their kingdom’s policies and customs, so focused he was on Legolas being safe and on helping the dwarves rebuild after Erebor was reclaimed. He had been willing, encouraging in fact, to let Legolas go off on an adventure, and it wasn’t until he’d returned to his throne in Mirkwood that he gave even a thought to the position he’d been left in.

Thranduil was in no means elderly, he considered himself to be in the prime of his life and he knew he had a good few centuries ahead of him before he’d have to start worrying. But Middle Earth was in a bit of a turmoil now, what with Sauron sneaking his way back into their lands and orcs and giant spiders on the rampage. Thranduil knew something could easily happen to him, and that he’d be a target because of his status.

So now he was sitting on his throne, fully aware of what what expected of him. His only son and heir had just left to go roam the lands and elven customs stated that this could only be allowed if there was another potential heir to take their place should something happen.

Thranduil knew that so far he’d been given leniency because of his status as king and because of the recent battle that they were recovering from. But it would only be a matter of time before one of his advisors said something, and soon they would be ganging up on him to fix the matter. To bring Legolas home.

Except that Thranduil knew Legolas would not come home, not on his orders and not by force. He wasn’t even sure where his son was right now. He knew his eventual destination was Estel, but Thranduil did not know what route his son would take.

According to custom, that left only one option, and it wasn’t one he was very happy about.

He knew he would have to sire another heir, that alone wasn’t the part that bothered him. It was that custom dictated the mother would have to be a close friend or trusted adviser, neither of which he could say he had in female form. There was Galadriel, though she wasn’t someone that was worth thinking about, what with her being in Lothlorien and also very much spoken for. So after her that only left the one woman he’d be quite happy to never have to see again for the rest of his very long life.

“My Lord?”

He glanced up from the rings on his finger that he’d been twisting in agitation during his musings, finding one of his subjects standing stiffly before him. The elf bowed his head low as was required of him, before standing straight again and staring at a point above Thranduil’s shoulder.

“You asked for me, My Lord?”

Thranduil sighed delicately at that and adjusted his rings before standing, holding his hands behind his back as he started to pace the short area before his throne. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but Legolas had left him no choice.

“Put together a team of fighters and send them to Erebor,” he said coldly, turning his body away from the elf before him so he wouldn’t have to look at his face. “They are to bring the lady Tauriel back here in one piece, whether she wishes it or not. I would have an audience with her.”

The elf bowed low again before hurrying out and Thranduil sighed, taking off his antler crown and settling it on the throne. Had it not been for Legolas, Thranduil would have gladly left Tauriel as a banished and disgraced elf, wandering the lands of Middle Earth and wallowing in her despair at the death of her so called dwarven love. Now he was forced to bring her back, which he knew had been Legolas’ intentions all along.

It wasn’t something he was in any way looking forward to, but even he had to admire the beauty the she elf held, Thranduil admitted to himself as he tilted his head slightly, a cold smile playing at his lips. Perhaps after she was chained to him and the kingdom instead of running around playing house with dwarves, she’d be a little easier for him to handle.

One could only hope.

_*_

In the grand scheme of things, it hadn’t really taken long at all for his assembled team to arrive with Tauriel in tow. But it was certainly long enough for Thranduil, who’d already had to fend off carefully worded questions from his advisors about his lack of a back up heir.

Because of this, Thranduil was in an even worse mood than usual, and he hadn’t bothered with his usual robes, too keyed up and annoyed to get the troublesome things on. Instead he’d gone for regal but simple, the same thing Legolas usually wore when out with the guards. But when Tauriel was dragged into the throne room and thrown onto the ground before him, he suddenly wished he’d bothered with his robes instead. They helped him feel more royal than he could himself, and right now he was feeling things he really didn’t want to.

“Leave us,” he snapped at his guards and the team, who hurriedly made their way back out the way they came, and soon it was just him and Tauriel, who was looking up at him with poorly disguised hatred.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my Lord?” she asked, her voice dripping venom as she slowly pulled herself up from where she’d been thrown. The other elves had not gone easy on her. They’d not liked her from the day she’d become captain of the guard and now they saw her as easy prey since she’d been banished. “I was under the impression I was never allowed back in these lands.”

“If it’d been up to me I would have left you in mourning with those little sewer rats,” Thranduil grated, not bothering to hide his annoyance as he rounded on Tauriel. “But custom has left me with no say in the matter, nor you. So your banishment is now lifted and I would have you stay here in Mirkwood with me.”

Tauriel wasn’t dense, Thranduil knew this, and it wouldn’t take her very long to figure out what was to be expected of her. He probably should have kept a couple of guards around when she inevitably threw a tantrum, but he hadn’t wanted anyone to be privy to this conversation. It would be horrendous enough without an audience.

“And what if I don’t want to stay here?” Tauriel challenged, lifting her chin in defiance as Thranduil stalked around her, refusing to turn even when he was sure she could feel his eyes digging into her back. She’d always been a spirit that he couldn’t crack, but up until now it hadn’t mattered since she’d usually followed his orders with only a little questioning.

“You have no choice in the matter, Lady Tauriel, your duty to your king and your kingdom binds you here by my side,” he snapped, stopping right in front of her and letting his eyes sweep over her body. She was dishevelled and there was the odd twig or leaf in her hair, but otherwise she looked the same. Good. He needed her healthy. “You are aware of Legolas leaving and the position it puts me in.”

It took a moment, probably too long, but he had no doubt it was only because the conclusion Tauriel came to was one that she really, _really_ didn’t want to be true. Her eyes widened almost comically and she took one startled step away from him. “No,” she said shakily, before her voice grew firm and she shook her head violently. “No, I will not!”

Thranduil gave her a look that was almost pity, for he really did understand her distaste. He didn’t want to lower himself to bedding her either, but for his kingdom he knew he had to. At the very least he was relieved she was an attractive little thing, despite her faults, and he wouldn’t have to take any supplements in order to perform for her.

“I’m afraid it has already been decided, Lady Tauriel,” he told her coldly. He could not leave any room for her to wiggle, he needed her to bear his heir and he knew she would do whatever she could to get out of it. “You will be escorted to your new rooms and there will be elves along to help you settle in promptly. I will visit you later this evening so that we may discuss this further. Guards!”

He raised his voice on the last word and drowned out Tauriel’s indignant stuttering, two elven warriors soon appearing on either side of her. They bowed low to Thranduil and both of them gave Tauriel a sort of sneer, which simply wouldn’t do. But now was not the time, Thranduil would have to sort out her damaged reputation later.

“Take the Lady Tauriel back to her new rooms and make sure she stays there for the meantime,” he ordered coldly, ignoring the hateful glare the she elf was giving him. “Spread word throughout the kingdom that her banishment has been lifted and she should not be harmed or challenged. Go.”

Each guard took one of Tauriel’s arms and started to pull her away, and she looked over her shoulder at Thranduil as she was dragged out of the throne room. The look she gave him was poisonous enough to kill a thousand mortal men, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to put his child in her belly if she was going to be looking at him like that throughout the entire act.

Perhaps he would have to change his tact just a little bit. He had not dabbled in something as common and lowly as sex in a very long time, not since he had lost Legolas’ mother. The memory of her and how they had conceived Legolas was a fond one, and he knew that were she here now, she would not approve of his treatment of Tauriel. Thranduil was definitely not an elf who would woo anyone, but for his parted beloved, he would at least try.

_*_

When Thranduil finally mustered up the will to go see Tauriel, he found her waiting by the door for him. She lunged for the open space, perhaps hoping to push him aside and make a break for it, but he’d been half expecting it and he stood firm, grabbing her by the arms to hold her in place. “You will calm yourself, she elf, lest I chain you to the bed!” he hissed.

He was annoyed, and rightfully so in his eyes, because he’d been hoping to try being gentle and somewhat nice to her and she had to go and ruin it before he could even get the door open properly. He’d expected it of course, but it frustrated him no less, and he pushed her further into the room before slamming the door behind him, hearing one of the guards locking it.

Tauriel looked like a caged wolf, stalking around the room and shooting him looks like she wanted to rip his throat open with her teeth. He wouldn’t even put that violence past her. She’d been almost meek before the blasted dwarves had shown up in their woods and shook up their peaceful existence, but now grief and war had hardened her. She was no longer the subservient subject he’d known previously.

Thranduil took his time as he pulled out a chair and settled on it, motioning for Tauriel to do the same. The rooms he had her in were ones that had not been inhabited in for a very, very long time, but he knew them well. They had housed Legolas’ mother for a short time before she had joined him in his own rooms. The official rooms of the king’s consort.

“If you think for one second I will allow you anywhere near me,” Tauriel started, ignoring his attempts to get her to sit. She stayed standing, fists clenched as if she were readying for a fight. She’d be horribly outmatched, Thranduil far outclassed her in hand to hand combat and she’d been stripped of any weapons when she’d been captured.

“Be quiet,” Thranduil snapped before he took a breath to calm himself. They would both be unwilling in this venture no matter what happened, but he hoped at least that it wouldn’t have to get violent, or that he wouldn’t have to tie Tauriel down. His only hope was to appeal to her sense of duty and to get her to see logic.

“Lady Tauriel,” he started stiffly, motioning again for her to sit down, and after a few long moments she did so, though she dragged the chair as far from him as she could. “You know as well as I do the tradition for us elves in times like these. I must have another heir should something happen to Legolas, and you are the only elf lady of standing in the court after the war at Erebor.”

“Call Legolas back, I’m sure he would if he found out what you’re planning to do to me,” Tauriel said quietly, her arms crossed over her stomach defensively. Her voice seemed almost desolate, as if she understood every single one of her alternate solutions wouldn’t work and that they’d all get shot down. She knew where this had to go, where it had to end.

“Though he never said so, I’m sure that this was Legolas’ intention in the first place,” Thranduil said mildly, watching the flicker of hurt and betrayal on Tauriel’s face. “He knew you would spend the rest of your life wandering through dwarf, men and halfling lands, mourning the death of your dwarf prince and the banishment from your people. At least here you are home, surrounded by ones you’ve known for centuries, and you will have an important job to do.”

“Carrying your spawn,” Tauriel spat, her pretty face hardened after she had realised Legolas’ betrayal. Though it was for her own good, Thranduil knew she would not see it that way, and he doubted she would be fond of Legolas again for some time.

“Yes Lady Tauriel, carrying my child,” Thranduil said pleasantly, doing his best not to roll his eyes. It was almost as if he was choosing a child to carry his own, Tauriel was acting more immature than any elfling a quarter of her age. “You will bear him or her and then begin the task of raising them. I will not be able to do it on my own, especially with all the meetings and treaties needing to be dealt with in Erebor and Dale.”

Tauriel glared at him in silence for a minute before she jumped up from her chair, stalking towards him and pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “You will not have the satisfaction of bedding me, I don’t care that you are my king, I will not do it!” she spat.

Thranduil stood as well and caught her hand as her long finger pressed into his chest. He used his grip on her to pull her in close, enough that she was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him and that he could feel the brush of her breasts against his chest. “Come now Tauriel, you know you have no say,” he said, keeping his voice calm.

She was looking up at him with a look that was almost fear but not quite, no doubt well aware that if he wanted to, he could throw her to the plush bed now and have his way with her. He could have her impregnated by the morn and she was finally beginning to understand that she really had no say in it. Her mouth was slightly parted, a protest no doubt dead in her throat, and he allowed his gaze to linger there, to remind her what was to come.

Tauriel swallowed, attempting to pull her arm out of his grip. Thranduil did not allow it, instead leaning his head down so their faces were close, enough that he could feel her breath, hurried and frantic, over his lips. Tauriel seemed to still, like a deer that had realised too late they had wandered into hunter territory, and her eyes dropped as well. He stayed like that, letting her wonder and think and imagine about what he might do to her, what he _would_ do to her, before he finally let go and took a step back.

“I will allow you some time to adjust to your new status here before we begin the bedding process,” he told her, watching her face go from expectant to confused to furious. “Unfortunately I will not be able to trust you to leave these rooms without attempting escape, so you will be locked in here until then. Goodnight, Lady Tauriel.”

He turned and knocked once on the door, a guard hurrying to unlock it. Tauriel spluttered behind him, and he heard her shouting even after the door had been closed and locked again behind him.


	2. Rumor Has It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

The next time Thranduil visited Tauriel in her rooms, she was curled up on the bed, her back to him. He made his presence known with a polite cough and she sat up abruptly, scrubbing her red cheeks clean of tears before she turned to face him. Though she’d clearly just been crying, her eyes still hardened at the sight of him and her lips pursed into an annoyed frown.

“Crying won’t get you out of this Tauriel,” he said gently, sitting down again and putting the box he carried down on the table in front of him. He took his time as he opened it up, pulling out a chess board and then beginning the process of setting it up.

“I wasn’t crying over you,” Tauriel spat, still sitting up in the bed and making no move to get closer, though she watched him putting the pawns on the chess board closely. “I was... there has been a lot of loss recently.”

Thranduil let his eyes flicker to her face again, watching her wistful expression. He knew it was one he’d worn for many years after Legolas’ mother had passed, and he had no doubt Tauriel wore it for her fallen dwarf prince.

“There has,” he allowed, finishing with his setting up and putting the now empty box aside, raising his eyebrows at Tauriel who was still sitting stiffly on the bed. “Come, Tauriel. I know you must get bored staying in here. Indulge me in a game.”

“I’m bored because you keep me here like a caged dog,” Tauriel said icily but she stood without much fight, making her way over to the chair opposite him and sitting with as much grace as she could muster.

Thranduil just smiled at her and motioned for her to start the game as he leaned back in his chair. “You are white, my Lady,” he prompted after she gave him a glare.

With a huff, Tauriel leaned forward and moved one of her pawns. She seemed just as agitated and angry at him as when he first dragged her back to Mirkwood, but she also seemed resigned now, as if she knew there was no avoiding her fate.

“How long are you going to give me, then?” she asked abruptly after they made their first few plays in silence. Thranduil had had thousands of years to hone his chess skills and he knew he’d beat her easily, but he was pleasantly surprised to see her using clever strategies that he usually deemed beyond the skill of an elf her age.

Thranduil tilted his head and waited, but Tauriel was only giving him another of her angry stares so he sighed out, delicately picking up one of her pawns once he captured it and setting it to the side. “Would you like to elaborate?”

Tauriel narrowed her eyes at his move and she leaned back, staring hard at the chess board. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to figure out the best move to make, or how to approach the subject weighing on her mind.

“How long until you insist on bedding me?” she eventually asked, her voice sounding as if she had to drag each word out.

Thranduil watched her expression for a good few moments as she finally moved one of her knights. He wasn’t too interested in the game, he could beat her with his eyes closed. He just wanted to try and spend more time softening her up, getting her to a point where she didn’t glare at him every time he so much as spoke in her presence.

“The need for an heir is a pressing issue however there will be a wait no matter what, since you will be carrying the child for a year and there is no guarantee you will fall pregnant on the first try,” he said lightly, moving his king without much thought. He noticed, however, how Tauriel stiffened, as if the concept of being bedded multiple times hadn’t occurred to her.

“So?” she pressed, not even looking at the board now as she stared at him intently.

“I am not as cold and heartless as you would like to think, Tauriel,” Thranduil said quietly, waiting for her to make her next play. “I understand you have suffered a great loss and that things will be very different for you. I am willing to fend off my council’s nagging for a month before we must start trying.”

“How very thoughtful of you, my Lord,” Tauriel bit out, her voice laced with sarcasm. Though from her expression he could tell she was relieved that she would have at least some time to ready herself, to pull herself together after her loss.

“Yes, I thought so too,” Thranduil said lightly, choosing to ignore her sarcasm. Her bite seemed more like a front today and he figured it was because he’d arrived after she’d cried herself out, and she was too exhausted to do much more than snipe at him. He’d considered trying something similar to his last visit, because the way Tauriel’s eyes had looked when he’d gotten close enough to kiss her had been very captivating indeed, but he sensed she had no energy to deal with him just then.

Tauriel shot him an angry look and she placed one of her chess pieces down on the board harder than necessary, the click of marble on marble loud in the room. “Check,” she said smugly.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and leaned forward to study the board. Indeed, his queen was now in danger, and he’d been too busy studying her expressions and movements to even notice that she’d changed tactics on him.

“Clever,” he said with an amused chuckle, moving his queen to safety. He didn’t ultimately mind that Tauriel was taking advantage of his distraction, perhaps an almost win against him would do her some good.

Tauriel gave him a sort of smirk before she went back to studying the board, and the silence in the room was not as frosty as it had been when he first entered. Eventually she glanced up at him, looking slightly put off when she caught Thranduil staring at her eyelashes, but she ignored it regardless. “Why are you here then?” she asked, moving her knight carefully. “Surely you have more important matters to tend to than playing a game with the elf you’re forcing to carry your heir.”

Thranduil paid more attention to the board now but he did glance back up at Tauriel every now and then thoughtfully. She sounded more bitter and jaded than she had ever been, and he knew the war was hitting her the hardest. She had been so young when she lost her parents, and that had just made it easier for her to heal. She’d retained her innocence about the world for far longer than she should have because of Thranduil’s protection, and she was paying for it now that that very same innocence had been ripped from her.

“I am here because you are the woman who will carry my second child and therefore you are important,” he told her slowly, debating with himself for a good while before he purposely moved his queen into what was a very obvious trap. “Despite what you may think, you are not just a womb to me, Lady Tauriel.”

Tauriel’s lips quirked a little and for a moment he thought she would call him out, but instead she just silently moved her knight closer to his queen. “Do you plan on wooing me with strategy games and polite conversations so I’ll be pliant and willing when you finally bed me?” she asked pointedly, though there was little malice in her words. He thought that perhaps she appreciated his efforts to make her more comfortable with the situation.

“For now,” Thranduil said simply, moving his queen again though he knew he was well and truly trapped and Tauriel would have him in a few moves. Chess was only the start, and if Tauriel continued to behave well, he would perhaps take her out of her rooms so he might court her properly.

“Hm, for some reason I thought you the type to just take what you want before leaving,” Tauriel said quietly, moving her knight again. Her lips were tilted into what could almost be a smile, since she knew she had him beat. His queen had no where to go.

“I apologise that I might have given you that impression, my Lady,” Thranduil said slowly, leaning forward and moving his queen once more as his voice dropped lower. “Though I can assure you that my reputation with these matters is quite important. I intend for you to be quite satisfied as well.”

Tauriel’s eyes widened at that and she swallowed thickly, much as she had done on his previous visit. The she elf seemed like she couldn’t find a thing to say in return, no biting come back or snappy remark. The heavy silence stretched between them for a good minute at least before she finally broke eye contact and moved her knight one last time.

“Checkmate,” she said quietly, and her voice was meek.

“Indeed,” Thranduil said with a quiet chuckle.

_*_

Thranduil didn’t leave Tauriel locked up in her rooms for long, he knew she was in real danger of fading from her grief and he wasn’t about to let that happen. The next morning after the chess match he summoned her to his private dining rooms in order to have breakfast with him, though he did station guards all over the place just in case she tried to make a run for it.

Tauriel swept into the room a good twenty minutes after he’d summoned her, her green eyes already narrowed in annoyance. Thranduil just admired her with a slight smirk, watching as she stalked over to the table and sat down on the chair furtherest from his own.

“Why have you forced me to dress like this?” she demanded in place of a greeting, gesturing to herself angrily. The clothes she’d been wearing when she was brought back to Mirkwood had been taken to be washed and in return she’d been given royal dresses. It was something Thranduil had never seen her in, and he was taking the time to get a good look now.

He’d had them made for her specifically, and the one she was wearing was the same emerald shade as her eyes. It hugged her figure nicely and showed off the roundness of her breasts and the breadth of her hips well, something that was never really seen when she was wearing her usual hunting attire. Tauriel, however, looked incredibly uncomfortable and she kept tugging at the neck of the dress, no doubt unused to the amount of skin it showed off.

“You have been given gowns befitting your new stature here, Lady Tauriel, and I’d say they rather suit you,” Thranduil said mildly, taking a sip from his goblet as a few servants started to serve them their food. “You won’t be gallavanting off into the woods to hunt spiders anytime in the near future so you’ll have no need for the types of outfits you normally wear.”

Tauriel’s lips pursed together angrily and she sat stiffly as her own goblet was filled, seeming to think over the right thing to say. Eventually she took a little breath and fixed Thranduil with a determined look. “You have taken my freedom from me and soon you will take my body,” she said sharply. “Is it not fair that you will at least let me keep the clothes that are comfortable for me?”

Thranduil considered that, his fingers rubbing idly over the gleaming silver of his spoon as he took in her appearance. The dresses looked lovely on her and certainly made her look more like an elf that was worthy of carrying his heir, but he could tell she was uncomfortable and upset, constantly fidgeting with the hems. He also knew that he’d have to give her some victories, like the chess match they’d played the night earlier, so she wouldn’t become completely desolate.

“I will expect you to wear these gowns on official occasions,” he said quietly, leaning forward and picking up a berry. “However I will allow your usual attire for the rest of the time.”

Tauriel seemed to relax at that and she nodded once, picking at her food. They ate the rest of their meal in silence, Tauriel not looking up from her plate once and Thranduil not taking his eyes off her.

A few minutes after they’d cleared their plates, Feren appeared in the doorway and Thranduil waved a hand. “You may return to your rooms, Lady Tauriel, I will send someone along to deliver new clothes shortly. I will collect you once I’ve finished up here and we will continue this later.”

Tauriel narrowed her eyes a little as she looked up at him and then looked over at Feren. He could tell she was reluctant to go back to her rooms but she stood gracefully and nodded, letting a guard guide her out of the room. She seemed a little startled when Feren bowed low to her, but as the king’s consort she would need to be getting used to that now.

Once she was gone, Thranduil got up and motioned for Feren to follow him, heading towards one of the servants. He instructed them on getting Tauriel’s usual clothes from her old rooms before he turned to look at Feren, who had his eyes lowered respectfully. “What is it?” Thranduil asked, glancing out at the elves outside the dining room, watching them attend to their business.

“The guard went on the usual hunting trip today to scout out any spiders that may have entered our lands, My Lord,” Feren said, bowing his head slightly. “They found a few wayward orcs but no spiders.”

Thranduil made a thoughtful noise at that, not taking his eyes off the view before him. The spiders had been plaguing their lands for years now and it was a very rare day indeed for them to find none. Elrond had said that Galadriel had driven Sauron away for the time being, which could possibly explain the lack of spiders, but he wasn’t so sure. Still, he had his hands full with rebuilding treaties after the war and with Tauriel, so he was just glad there were none in his lands.

“We will continue to send the guard to hunt the spiders for the time being, it may have just been a lucky day today,” he said after a few minutes of thought. “If there are no spiders found in the next month then report back to me.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Feren said, bowing low before hurrying back out of the rooms to relay his orders. Thranduil watched him go before he turned and made his way to Tauriel’s rooms. Though he was aware there were several messages from both Dale and Erebor waiting to be read and dealt with, he felt dealing with Tauriel was more important. His own people, and his future heir, would always come before the prideful dwarves and witless men.

The guards by Tauriel’s rooms unlocked the door for him and he knocked once before entering. Tauriel was sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up her boots. She’d changed into her usual attire and while it certainly didn’t show her off as well as the gowns, it didn’t diminish her beauty.

“I will allow you to visit the outer grounds with me, if you so choose,” Thranduil said after a moment as Tauriel finished tying her laces and looked up at him. Allowing her these small victories seemed to have worked, and she only gave him a mildly annoyed glare as she stood up.

“Anything to get out of these rooms,” she muttered, pushing past him into the corridor. Thranduil almost expected her to bolt, but she remained there, giving him an impatient look as he closed the doors behind them.

“The guards have done their sweep of the wood and any dangers were dealt with, so there is no need for weapons,” he said mildly when Tauriel started eyeing up a nearby guard’s bow. He didn’t bother to mention he had a dagger strapped to his thigh and several armed elves were following them at a distance in case of trouble.

Tauriel gave him an unimpressed look but didn’t comment, walking with him as they left the palace and began treking through a path towards the gardens. The woods felt lighter now than they had in a few years, like an unwelcomed presence had been removed, and it seemed to put them both at ease.

“It seems... brighter here,” Tauriel commented after a few minutes, stepping delicately over a root. “Like more sunlight is being let in.”

“Sauron’s evil presence was likely bleeding into our lands,” Thranduil replied, glancing upwards. Indeed, it was a lot brighter than normal, and he could see more birds flitting about the tree tops than he’d seen in a long time. “With him driven away for now, the woods are healing.”

Once they reached the gardens Thranduil stood and watched as Tauriel moved between each flower and plant, brushing her fingertips over delicate petals and leaves. It was a favourite place to be for a woodland elf with free time, but Thranduil had made sure it would be deserted. Aside from the guards he knew were on watch, somewhere hidden in the trees, they were on their own.

After a while Tauriel sat on one of the benches, rubbing her fingers over a smooth rock in her grip. Thranduil sat beside her though he was careful to leave room between them. “I would have expected you to attempt to leave,” he said lightly. She’d railed at him for keeping her prisoner in her own rooms, and yet she seemed content to stay right where she was though she had the chance to escape.

“This is my home,” Tauriel said quietly, her thumb rubbing over runes carved into the rock in her hand. Thranduil couldn’t make out what they said but he could tell the runes were dwarfish. “I may not be happy with the new role you’ve forced on me but I’ve no where else to go.”

 _No one else to live for._ The words hung unspoken, and Thranduil knew she was thinking about her dwarf prince. With him dead and long buried, nothing outside their lands remained for her. It was why Thranduil was so sure Legolas had left in the first place, so Tauriel could come home.

“I will allow you to leave your rooms at your own leisure then,” he decided, watching a bird alight on one of the rose bushes across the gardens. “I will, however, require you to have a guard with you at all times. Not only to make sure you don’t leave, but to make sure you are protected.”

Tauriel turned her head to glare at him, though there was no real heat behind it. It seemed like she just wanted to make things difficult. “Why, because I will carry your heir?” she muttered. “Legolas _is_ your heir and you’ve allowed him to go gallavanting off on some adventure.”

“Legolas spent many years unable to leave without my permission before he earned the right to come and go as he pleased,” Thranduil said lightly. “You are strong and you fight well, but I will not risk you until after the babe you carry is at an age where they could survive if something happened to you.”

Tauriel pursed her lips at that but she seemed to accept his answer, turning back to look at the gardens. Her thumb never stopped obsessively rubbing over the dwarven runes on her rock.

“You will find that in time,” Thranduil started, his voice softened as he remembered his own loss, “that your grief will lesson. Perhaps becoming a mother and having a life depend on you will help with that pain.”

Tauriel’s thumb paused in it’s movements and she sighed quietly, tucking the rock away into a pocket. She didn’t reply to him and they spent the next hour sitting together in silence, watching the flowers flutter in the breeze and the occasional bird flit down to observe them.

Eventually Thranduil stood, knowing he could shirk his duties no longer. He took Tauriel’s hand and considered it a great win when she didn’t snatch it out of his grasp when he bowed low to brush his lips over the back of it.

“I have letters I must be getting to, however you are welcome to stay here as long as you like. There are guards who will stay here with you,” he murmured, letting go and straightening as two elves made themselves known at his words, stepping out from behind trees.

Tauriel didn’t looked surprised to see them and she watched Thranduil silently as he left the gardens, her face impassive but the tips of her ears slightly red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic with no real direction or any sort of idea of what I wanted to do with it. After a lot of brainstorming I've got a nicely fleshed out plan so things should be more plot driven from now on. Thank you to everyone who's bothered to read, kudos or leave comments! It means a lot.


	3. Songbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

Days passed and Thranduil did his best to focus on his duties to his people. They’d had casualties from the war, and though the spider numbers were growing less, there seemed to be an increase of travellers through their realm. Dwarven travellers specifically, hoping to sneak by to get to the newly claimed Erebor.

Because of the fact Dain was Thranduil’s tentative ally, he allowed them to pass, but he assigned a good portion of his guards to keep an eye on them. He wouldn’t want them to cause any trouble, nor did he want dead dwarves stinking up his lands if the spiders got to them.

They did seem to cheer Tauriel up a fair bit, however. He’d gone to her rooms one afternoon to visit her, determined to build their relationship to a point where she wouldn’t fade once he bedded her, but found she was not there. A nearby guard directed him far out to the edges of the forest, and he’d found her perched high up in a tree, watching a group of five stout dwarves stumbling about in the undergrowth.

Only once the dwarves had passed did Tauriel make her way down, not seeming at all surprised to see Thranduil waiting at the base of the tree for her. She ignored his proffered hand to help her from the lowest branch and just jumped down, landing lightly on her feet.

“No spiders at all today,” she said, brushing a few stray leaves from her tights. She had a dagger strapped to each hip and a bow and quiver full of arrows on her back. Thranduil hadn’t given any permissions for her to have weapons on her, so he knew she’d somehow managed to sneak them out. Still, if she hadn’t attempted an escape whilst armed, he figured she never would. He wouldn’t comment on it, and he made a mental note to mention to Feren that she should be allowed weapons from now on. Small victories.

If she insisted on coming right out to the edges of their realm to spy on dwarves, she’d need to be armed anyway. Here the spiders were slightly more numerous, and it wouldn’t do to have the future mother of his child killed by one.

“Already the wood has healed, it no longer feels sick and heavy with decay,” Thranduil murmured, glancing to his left when he heard a twig snap. “The spiders have a home here no longer.”

If Thranduil were honest with himself, he felt the healing of the forest so keenly because the sickness had been creeping upon him too. He was king, of course, and so bonded to his home. He’d not even noticed at the time that his thoughts were slowly growing darker, that his usual care for his people had diminished. He’d even treated Legolas, his precious only child, with some disdain. Now that his mind was clear again, he was almost ashamed of his actions. He hated that he’d succumbed to the darkness so easily

“It’s almost a pity, they were good target practise,” Tauriel said lightly, turning her head to the sound as well. She paused before carefully grabbing her bow and notching an arrow, aiming into the thick brush to their left. Thranduil just gave the seemingly innocent fauna a bored look. There were guards scattered about with the sole purpose of looking after Tauriel, so he knew they were in no danger.

After a moment a dwarf stepped out from the brush, heavily dishevelled and holding his hands up in a gesture for peace. Tauriel never lowered her bow but she raised an eyebrow, looking the dwarf over. He was short and fat, like most dwarves Thranduil had encountered, and his braided hair and beard were a deep mahogany brown, though most of the braids were messy. Thranduil always had a bit of trouble telling the ages of dwarves, but he easily figured this one was older, from the way his beard was starting to become streaked with grey.

“State your business,” he said coldly, a little offended that their conversation had been interrupted, and by a dwarf no less. Tauriel didn’t look away from the dwarf but he could’ve sworn he saw a slight eye roll from her.

“Begging your pardon, your majesty,” the dwarf said, trying for jovial but just sounding nervous. “I’m part of a company making our way to the kingdom of Erebor but one of our younglings has fallen ill. We’re not sure she can make it the rest of the way.”

Tauriel lowered her bow at that and she slid the arrow back into the quiver. She glanced at Thranduil and, when he said nothing, nodded to the dwarf. “We will grant you shelter and supplies while our healers look at your child,” she told him, sounding much like her old self again. Confident and take charge, the captain of the guard.

Thranduil was less than pleased about more dwarves in his kingdom but the elves knew just as well the hardships of not enough children. They would not turn away a sick child needing help, not even if the child was a dwarf.

The dwarf bowed low to them before making a peculiar sound that, to Thranduil, sounded like a barn owl. Three more dwarves emerged from the brush, all of them looking equally dishevelled, and the king saw a very small one tucked up in the arms of a dwarf that he supposed could possibly be a female, though it was hard to tell.

He kept his impassive expression but Tauriel’s face softened at the sight and she looked to Thranduil expectantly. “Feren,” he called, keeping an eye on the child as if it would fade right in front of them. “Escort our guests to the infirmary. Let the child be looked over by a healer and then sort out whatever supplies they need for the rest of their journey.”

Feren appeared from behind a nearby tree and all of the dwarves jumped to see him, though Tauriel just looked slightly annoyed. When Thranduil turned and started making his own way back to the palace she went after him, hurrying slightly before falling into step beside him.

“Must you have him follow me everywhere?” she asked, sounding exasperated. “Have I not already proved I’m not going to leave?”

“Your guards are there more for your protection than to keep you inside our lands, though I should have known you’d find yourself weapons somehow,” Thranduil said dryly, eyeing the sharp daggers at her hips. Tauriel had the presence of mind to flush guiltily, looking away from him.

“I just want to go back to the way thing were,” she said quietly, a little grumpily. “Once I have had your child I intend to rejoin the guard, I am not suited for the quiet, royal life you so enjoy.”

Thranduil fought the urge to roll his eyes in the most un-kingly way, pulling aside part of his robes to show the dagger strapped to his own hip. “When not at war my life has grown quite boring, I do admit,” he muttered, letting his robes fall back into place. “But that is the life of a king. My duties lie in keeping the peace and helping my people, not in gallivanting around the forest slaying monsters.”

“Perhaps you should try it,” Tauriel replied, her lips twitching into something resembling a smile. “There’s nothing quite like the rush of battle.”

“I think the members of the court would keel over and die of shock,” Thranduil muttered, fighting the way his own lips tried to stretch into a smile at the thought. “To see their king join the royal guard in the slaying of simple spiders.”

“Oh, but you’d so enjoy the looks on their faces, wouldn’t you?” Tauriel teased him, and now she definitely was smiling, her expression almost mischievous.

Thranduil gave her an assessing look at that. None but Legolas had dared to tease him like that, and even then Legolas hadn’t for a very long time. Maybe he should have been offended but he found he was more amused than anything. “Perhaps,” he said after a moment, stopping once they reached the entrance of the palace. “I must go send word to King Dain about his people needing escorts, I do not want this happening again.”

Tauriel smiled a little at that and nodded, head already turned towards the infirmary. “I will go check on the child then, and give you news of whatever ailment she suffers when I see you at dinner.”

Thranduil nodded and watched her walk away, only moving to his own rooms once she’d rounded a corner and left his sight.

_*_

For the next two days Thranduil did his best to win Tauriel over, treating her to dinners that were lavish even for a king, and spoiling her with the best wines and jewellery their kingdom had to offer. The red-headed elf had treated each gift wit barely concealed disdain, clearly not impressed with anything he could give to her. Thranduil was starting to get fed up, he could hardly go against the laws of their land so he had no choice either, and he wished she would just appreciate the lengths he was going to.

The dwarves in their land had been twitchy and nervous, their hands going to hips quick as a flash whenever an elf accidentally snuck up on them. Of course, they’d been stripped of their weapons, one could never be too careful, but their anxiety made the elves nervous as well. Thranduil had granted the small company a set of two rooms for them to rest in while their dwarfling was getting over her sickness, and the dwarves hardly strayed from them. No doubt they’d heard stories about Thranduil’s hospitality when Thorin and the others had been in his lands, and they didn’t want to push their luck.

Tauriel was the one that dealt with them the most, other than the head healer. Since she had nothing else to do but sit around and be wooed, and because she was the least negative towards dwarves, she took it upon herself to make sure they were being treated well for their stay. Thranduil had watched her with some intrigue when she dealt with them, seeing the gentle way she spoke with the child and the mother, and the respect in her voice when speaking with the men.

The spiders were at an all time low now, with only three being seen (and slain) in their woods since Feren’s first report, and the land had healed considerably. No longer were the paths overrun with giant webs, and now the ground was starting to see more sunlight. It made the whole place seem lighter and friendlier, and the nickname of Mirkwood was starting to be used less.

With this in mind, and because of Tauriel’s clear disdain for Thranduil’s attempts at wooing her (he’d even recited poetry over dinner one night, for Valar’s sake), he’d made his mind up by the time the dwarves had left their lands.

“Come along,” he said to Tauriel lightly when she turned away from where she’d been watching the dwarves leave. She looked started to see him holding out her bow and a quiver full of arrows, and she took them slowly.

“Where are we going?” she asked, slinging the quiver on her back and looking even more confused when Thranduil handed her her two daggers as well.

“We are joining the guard for today’s sweep of the west perimeter,” Thranduil replied, keeping his voice light though he knew full well the meaning of his words. The king had not deigned to lower himself to _guard duty_ in a very long time.

Tauriel’s eyes widened at that and she hurried along with him as he started off, strapping her daggers to her hips. “Really? Why?” she asked, and Thranduil could hear the wary but growing excitement in her voice.

“Maybe you were right and I want to see the faces of the counsel when we get back,” he said, keeping his face blank, but on the inside he was smirking. Tauriel was a warrior, and if he couldn’t woo her with wining and dining, maybe he could woo her with duty and violence. Although he wouldn’t mind seeing Anuven and the rest of the counsel’s disapproval. He was so very tired of bending to their judgement.

Tauriel let out a laugh at that, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. For the first time since the death of her dwarf she looked truly amused, and she shot Thranduil a genuine smile. “How very rebellious of you, my Lord,” she said teasingly. “Though you’re hardly dressed for a hunt.”

Thranduil was in his usual fine robes, though he had traded his antler crown for a silver circlet, and he’d put on his sturdier boots. He had a dagger strapped to his hip though he doubted he’d need it. “Oh, I don’t intend on doing any killing, I’ll leave that to you,” he said lightly, catching Tauriel’s pleased look as they joined up with the guard that was waiting for them by the west exit of the palace.

All of them looked nervous to have Thranduil joining them and they were more heavily armed than usual, no doubt wanting absolutely nothing to happen to their king. Tauriel’s presence hardly phased them however, and they all just nodded to her once after bowing low to Thranduil.

They made their way out into the forest then, Tauriel retracing the usual path of the west sweep and Thranduil keeping pace beside her. The others fanned out around them, keeping Thranduil in the middle so he’d be protected on all sides in case of attack. It was hardly necessary of course, Thranduil was a warrior in his own right and there were barely any monsters trespassing in their lands any more, but he tolerated it. They were only trying to protect him.

As luck would have it, their sweep wasn’t entirely uneventful. Twenty minutes in they stumbled across two spiders that were working to cocoon what looked to be a deer. Tauriel silently drew her bow and notched an arrow, and a second later the left spider let out an almighty sound of pain, the arrow protruding from one of it’s many eyes.

Thranduil stopped beside a thick oak tree and leaned against it in an almost bored fashion, not bothering to join in. There was no need, since there was only two, and he’d much rather watch anyway. Half of the guard stayed close to him while the other half helped Tauriel dispatch the two spiders.

Tauriel fought with ease, almost as if she’d never stopped fighting since the war, and her face was smooth and free from worry as she spun and stabbed her dagger into one of the spiders. She looked, in those moments, free from grief, and Thranduil wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner.

When both spiders lay still, Tauriel returned to his side, her expression turning somewhat amused when she saw he’d just been standing and watching. She had a tiny smear of spider blood on her cheek and a bigger smear on her shoulder, but it did nothing to diminish the feral beauty she exuded.

“Legolas did not exaggerate when he spoke of your talents, you fought well,” Thranduil murmured, looking her over. She’d led the fight, with the others just backing her up, and she didn’t even have a scratch on her. Her hair was a little mussed, and she was tense with pent up energy, but otherwise she looked completely normal.

“It’s what I do best,” Tauriel replied, though her cheeks heated very slightly at his praise. The others in the guard all turned their heads in respect, trying to give them a little privacy.

“Come, let’s finish the sweep,” Thranduil said with some amusement at her modesty, continuing on. A few elves stayed behind to deal with the bodies, and the rest of them encountered no more filth in their section of the woods.

Once they reached the royal room section of the palace Thranduil made to go to his own rooms, commenting about washing up before dinner, but Tauriel stopped him, shifting a little on her feet and looking just slightly to his left rather than at his face.

“Since you seem to be so interested in reciting poetry, I wouldn’t mind hearing some of the works by Girithanar,” she said quietly. Her eyes flickered to his face after a moments silence and at his stunned look, Tauriel’s cheeks flushed red and she quickly turned on her heal, retreating to her own rooms and hastily closing the door behind her.

Thranduil stood and watched the door for some time, going over the exchange in his head. He should have known that a feral warrior like Tauriel would be more receptive to being wooed on hunts than anything royal women preferred. Still, he hadn’t expected that change in her, and when he finally went into his own rooms, he found himself gliding over to his collection of books and flicking through them to find ones written by an elf named Girithanar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an absolute pleb because I've only ever seen the Hobbit and LoTR trilogies, not read any of the books. Hopefully my writing doesn't show my ignorance too clearly, I've been basing everything I know off the movies and off things I've read in other fics (also maybe google a little bit). Thank you to everyone who's bothered to read, kudos or leave comments! It means a lot.


	4. If I Die Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

Time passed in a blur of politics for Thranduil. He’d had an envoy from Lothlorien show up with little warning, as well as King Bard joining him for two nights in order to discuss trade options. A few days was nothing but a drop in the ocean for an immortal elf, but these meetings and discussions seemed to drag on and on for him. It probably didn’t help that while he was holed up in a fancy room talking of supplies and trade routes, Tauriel would be out in the forest with the guard.

Though her title of Captain had not been reinstated and she was little more than a guest joining them on their sweeps, the other elves accepted her back in. Thranduil could sense some reluctance from them, they no doubt disliked her affiliation with the dwarves of Erebor, but they put up with it simply because she was the consort of the king. Tauriel, for her part, did not seem to care about the looks and whispers she got. She seemed almost detached from everyone except Thranduil, though she had started to get along better with Feren after he stopped following her.

Dinners had been awkward to say the least. The envoy from Lothlorien had joined them the first night, eyeing Tauriel with barely restrained curiosity, and Bard had been present the next two nights. He did not seem to understand anything about the nature of their relationship, and he’d become visibly uncomfortable when Thranduil had explained she was to bear his child because of political reasons. He’d had the presence of mind to hold his tongue, though Thranduil knew he did not approve. It was of no matter. Men had hardly any time on earth and they were foolish children, exuberant with their emotions and their love. Only other elves truly understood the drain of existence, and how that excitement could be so very dulled over time.

On the fourth night since he’d taken her out on a sweep as a romantic gesture, Thranduil finally had Tauriel alone as they ate dinner. It was hardly a formal affair, they were seated in Thranduil’s private dining area which was small but airy, the furniture built for both comfort and style. They were alone for the most part, only servers coming in and out sparingly, and Thranduil took the opportunity to recite a few of the poems he’d memorised after Tauriel had expressed her interest.

The reciting of poems had always been a boring affair, Thranduil had done it plenty in his many years. However this time it held it’s charms, being that he couldn’t take his eyes off the way Tauriel’s cheeks flushed as he spoke, and how she couldn’t even look at him, always focusing intently on her food and fiddling with her cutlery. It was amusing, and even a little charming, how modest she could be. Thranduil hadn’t taken much interest in her private life before all this, but he knew at least that she’d never been on the receiving end of this sort of courtship. Even with Legolas’ crush on her, he’d never pursued her because of Thranduil’s disapproval.

Thranduil only recited three poems of a decent length, not wanting to bore her by droning on and on, and after each one Tauriel would give him a shy smile and thank him. Several times her mouth opened as if she wanted to say more, but after a moment she would always shut it again and look back to her food.

Thranduil found himself quite amused at this but he didn’t push her, instead choosing to lean forward slightly and meet her eyes. “How are the sweeps going?” he asked her, though he’d already had reports from the current captain. Perhaps a change in conversation, from romantic poems to gore and violence, would bring her out of her shell.

It worked. Tauriel straightened and she finally made eye contact, her mouth curving into a more confident smile. “Well, my Lord,” she started, setting her fork down. “In the past four days we have only encountered three spiders and two wayward orcs. Easy enough to bring down.”

Thranduil hummed at that and nodded as he watched her. From his talks with the Lothlorien elf, the sudden disappearance of the spiders could most definitely be attributed to Galadriel’s expulsion of Sauron from their lands. The envoy had expressed the Lady’s concerns that he would not be idle, and would become a threat again quite soon, and that they must throw their support behind Gondor. Thranduil was unconvinced at that, Sauron’s dark spirit had been bested once, and he could be bested again. Unless he got a hold of the ring of power, they would have little trouble, and that evil piece of jewellery had been lost long ago.

No, Thranduil was quite content to ignore Galardiel’s attempts at meddling, and simply focus on his own affairs.

They finished up dinner soon after, and Tauriel looked to him contemplatively as they both stood up. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before clearing her throat. “Do you want to go down to the gardens this evening?” she asked quietly. “I hear the golden flowers will be blooming in the moonlight.”

Thranduil let himself touch at that, gently resting his hand on the side of Tauriel’s head for but a moment, an affectionate gesture usually reserved for Legolas alone. He was quite pleased she was now seeking out his company, so he shook his head with reluctance. “I’m afraid I can’t, I have a counsel meeting I can’t put off,” he said regretfully.

Tauriel nodded at that, her face a careful mask of indifference, though she couldn’t hide the slight dusting of red on her cheeks. “Alright, I will see you in the morning then,” she said softly. They bid their good nights then, and Thranduil watched her leave in the direction of the gardens before he started towards the counsel rooms. As a king it was his duty of course, but he couldn’t help but be annoyed that he’d be spending yet another evening talking politics when he could be enjoying the night with his consort.

_*_

Thranduil managed to make it to the gardens just as the majority of the elves there were leaving. The golden flowers only bloomed for so long, and it seemed most of them had closed up by now. Not all elves cared for such things, so he didn’t have to make his way through a crowd, and he was able to find Tauriel easy enough. Her red hair made her quite distinctive amongst those with mostly blonde, black and brown hair.

She was standing near one of the few beds of golden flowers that were still bloomed, giving off an exquisite light that imitated the glow of the moon above. Feren was standing with her and they were talking softly, though the conversation was cut short when Feren caught sight of Thranduil and bowed low, backing away to let him have his privacy.

Tauriel turned to look at him and she smiled even as she gave him a bemused look while he stopped to stand beside her. “I thought you would be in a meeting all night?” she questioned.

Thranduil just turned to face the flowers, putting on his expressionless mask so she wouldn’t see just how frustrated he’d been. The counsel members had called a meeting just so they could badger him about an heir. Legolas had sent word that he had no intention of returning anytime soon, so their bugging became more focused, and Tauriel had been the centre of the conversation. They were not happy he was giving her time before he bedded her, and they seemed completely unconcerned when he gave his reasons.

They had not given much care for the fact Tauriel was already in danger of fading from grief, and that forcing something like this too soon would likely put her over the edge. They had medicine and magic that could keep her body from failing even as her mind went, so they would still be able to get an heir out of her. The idea of that had appalled Thranduil, and he wondered just how cold and calloused his counsel had become. They’d been appointed by him while he’d had the shadow of darkness over himself, and he could now see the darkness had caused him to choose those quite unsuitable for the task. He wanted to get rid of each and every one of them, but such things had to be handled delicately and he could not act rashly. He would bide his time.

Because the conversation had just been the lot of them going around in circles, arguing for arguings sake, Thranduil had exerted his power and called the meeting to an end early. He was not going to sit around and be harassed by his own subjects who could clearly care less about him, the kingdom, or his consort.

“It ended early,” was all he said in way of an answer, reaching out to touch one delicate petal of the closest golden flower. It was warm against his fingertip and the glow seemed to settle him a bit, as did Tauriel’s presence beside him.

“I see,” Tauriel said after a moment, and once glance at her face showed she knew something was amiss, but she didn’t push him.

They stood like that in silence until all of the elves had trickled out of the garden and the last flower closed, leaving them in just the weak moonlight as well as the glow from lanterns in the palace behind them.

Thranduil would have been content to simply stand there all night and absorb the wild nature of the forest around them, so connected to his lands he was, but a hastily stifled yawn from Tauriel brought his mind back to such earthly matters as sleep and rest. His own body was tired as well, but he knew he would not sleep well that night. Still, it would not be fair to keep Tauriel up with him, so he turned to her and laid a hand on the back of her neck.

“Go to your rooms and get some rest, I will see you again for breakfast,” he told her, pressing just the barest hint of a kiss against her forehead. Pulling back saw that her face had gone quite red and she was once again refusing to meet his eyes. She left quickly after that and Thranduil settled himself on once of the stone benches, contemplating the situation late into the night.

_*_

It seemed that now the invisible barrier between them had been broken, it was gone for good. Thranduil had mostly been avoiding touching Tauriel, not wanting to push her too far too soon and not wanting to deal with any hostility should he try for too much, but after the gardens it had changed. He let himself reach out, with the sort of simple affection he used with Legolas when they were alone or in good company.

Tauriel, for her part, did not seem perturbed about the touches, though she was far too shy to return any of them. She allowed his affections with a blush, though that started to fade the more he indulged in them. Not two days had passed and he was already relaxing into touching her hair idly as they talked, and using his finger to tilt her chin up when she started getting clammed up. Her expression always seemed expecting, like she was waiting for him to take it further, perhaps force a kiss or something more, but as each time passed without him doing so, she seemed to relax a little more and more.

On the sixteenth day of Tauriel becoming the royal consort, Thranduil found her in the library, curled up on a plush chair with an old leather tome on her lap. She looked up and seemed almost startled when he entered, and when she hurried to close the book a stone slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor between them.

Thranduil picked it up before she could react, turning it over in his fingers and studying it. It was the same stone he’d seen her holding before, the one with the dwarven runes, though he could not make out what it said. Strained relations with the dwarves and long centuries had led to Thranduil neglecting his studies, and he found himself at a loss for what the talisman meant.

Tauriel was watching him warily and he handed the stone back over to her, noting how she immediately shoved it into her pocket. It obviously meant a great deal to her, though he couldn’t see why, it was just a rock.

“Would you tell me about it?” he asked after a moment, sitting himself down on a chair opposite Tauriel. At her blank look he nodded to her pocket and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “The rock, the runes. The meaning behind it.”

Tauriel swallowed heavily at that and she turned her face away, seeming to study the painting on the wall to her left with great interest. Though the last week she’d been mostly happy and receptive to Thranduil’s affections, today looked to be a bad day. Her eyes held shadows of grief and there was the slightest hint of red, as if she’d been crying much earlier.

“It was a gift,” she said eventually, her hand finding it’s way into her pocket, no doubt to clutch onto the rock as she spoke. “From Kili. My dwarven prince, as you put it.”

Thranduil nodded at that and kept his expression neutral. He’d expected as much, and though he had distaste for dwarves in general, he’d witnessed the genuine love that Tauriel had felt for Kili and he had been saddened by the grief she was now experiencing. He had experienced it with Legolas’ mother, and he would not wish that pain upon Tauriel, even when he was at his most angry and frustrated at her.

He remained silent and did not push, though he tilted his head slightly in a sign that he was listening, if she wished to continue. Tauriel watched his face with a furrowed brow, seemingly searching for something. He did not know what she found, but after a moment she looked down at the tome in her lap and sighed. “He showed it to me when they were first held in our cells here. It was given to him by his mother, so he could remember his promise that he would return to her.”

She paused then, expression pained. Kili had never returned to his mother, and the next time Dis saw him would have been his body. It was something Thranduil didn’t like to think about. He couldn’t imagine having to live through Legolas’ death if something were to happen.

“When I followed him and his company to Lake Town, I stayed with them in order to heal Kili’s wounds and help Bard’s children when Smaug was unleashed from the mountain,” Tauriel continued, her voice soft and distant, as if she were lost in her own memories. “In the aftermath of the destruction he asked me to follow him to Erebor. I refused and he gave me the rune stone as a promise.”

A promise that he would return to her. It was left unspoken, but Thranduil heard the words anyway. Two promises to two woman, both broken upon his death. Tauriel’s eyes had gone misty as if she were thinking about tearing up, but she never did, just fixing Thranduil with a pained look.

“It never goes away, the feeling,” she said quietly, pressing her hand above her breast and taking a stuttering breath. “I feel as if there is a gaping hole inside me, and that nothing could hope to fix it.”

Thranduil studied her for a moment, keeping a respectful distance. Her obvious pain dredged up feelings of his own, ones long since buried. “You were a mere child when you were brought to my lands, but even then you came long after my wife passed,” he said quietly, examining Tauriel’s face carefully. “She was always the one who looked after Legolas, I did not have much to do with him at first. But after she was taken from me... I found that taking comfort in my son’s presence helped ease the grief she left me with.”

Tauriel’s eyes flashed and she shot him a look of pure rage. “You dare try to take my grief and twist it into reasons why I should embrace my new status here?”

Thranduil almost startled at the sudden change and he shook his head, holding his hands up in an attempt to beg for peace. “I do not wish to tell you that having my child will erase the sadness you feel,” he soothed. “I only mean to reassure you that in time you will find your own reasons to ease that pain, and perhaps in the next few centuries you could look back on your time with him and see the light as well as the dark.”

Tauriel glared at him for another moment before it melted off her face, leaving her looking exhausted and strung out. She looked back down at the tome on her lap, fingers tracing the old lettering on the page.

Thranduil recognised it as one of the very old books they had on the dwarven language, and he nodded towards it. “What are you reading?” he asked, hoping to draw her into cheerier subjects.

Tauriel’s fingers paused and she looked down at the letters she’d been tracing. “The translation for the runes on the stone. He never told me explicitly what they were and I wanted to know.”

Thranduil nodded at that and watched her carefully. “What does it say?”

Tauriel looked up at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Return to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's bothered to read, kudos or leave comments! It means a lot. A special thanks to Ashlee for giving me inspiration for where this story should go!


	5. Girl On Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

Tauriel seemed calmer the next day and the shadow of grief had retreated from her eyes. Thranduil was relieved and didn’t bring it up, though he watched her carefully at breakfast. He’d been genuinely worried she would end up fading, but it looked like they had a good chance at avoiding that.

Though he was sure Tauriel would throw an absolute fit if he said it aloud, he was secretly grateful that her time with Kili had been so short. They’d barely known each other, hadn’t shared much with each other, and Thranduil thought that that was probably what was keeping Tauriel from fading completely. If their romance had had time to blossom, Tauriel would be gone by now.

After breakfast Tauriel went off into the forest with the guard and Thranduil rode out to Dale to deal with a meeting with both Dain and Bard. It was late afternoon by the time he returned and he changed into comfortable yet still regal clothes before he went and found Tauriel. She was curled up in a large, plush chair in her rooms, reading. She gave him a soft smile when he entered and, as was their custom these past days, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead briefly before he sat in the armchair opposite her.

“How was your sweep?” he asked, eyes drifting down to the book on her lap. It was one he recognised, something he had read many times many years ago, back when he’d still been a prince and learning about the world outside of Mirkwood. He couldn’t remember the name of the tome, but he knew it detailed everything the elves knew of dwarves and their customs.

“Uneventful, not a single spider, orc or any other unsavoury creature,” Tauriel replied, placing a small strip of bark between the pages of the tome before closing it and setting it aside. “It was rather disappointing, though I am happy our lands are healing. How was your meeting?”

Thranduil gave a graceful shrug at that as he leaned back and crossed his legs, the perfect picture of tired majesty, or so he liked to think anyway. “The dwarves are in quite a muddle, trying to pull their kingdom together. King Dain is not fond of me and King Bard is having a difficult time trying to play peacemaker.”

In truth, Thranduil had been rather amused at the proceedings, but he didn’t like the exhausted look on Bard’s face and he got steadily more annoyed as the meeting dragged on and Dain wouldn’t let up on his attitude. It took everything in Thranduil to not order Bard to his bed and sleep for a week once the meeting was over. He refrained, just, because though Bard was just a human, he was a King now, and was not one of Thranduil’s subjects.

Tauriel smiled at that and she shook her head as her fingers lightly traced over the tome she’d set aside. “I think that will be the case for many more years, and once King Bard is too old you’ll be doing the same with with his son as peacemaker.”

Thranduil made a non-committal noise at that, staring into the fireplace to their left though it was unlit. He usually wasn’t bothered about humans since they had such short lifetimes that they’d be dead just as soon as they were born, but he couldn’t help but like Bard. He didn’t really want to hear about his son taking the throne, not just yet anyway.

They sat in silence for a while, Thranduil letting himself slowly relax after a stressful meeting. He felt comfortable in Tauriel’s presence now, and she at the very least no longer felt hostile in _his_ presence.

“Can you tell me about her?” Tauriel asked after a long while, voice hesitant. When Thranduil looked at her, she was worrying her lower lip with her teeth and looked nervous, as if she were crossing a line.

She didn’t have to elaborate, Thranduil knew exactly who she meant. Still, he stayed quiet for a good few minutes as he collected his thoughts, broaching memories he’d long since buried away.

“Her name was Uirebes, and we were married for close to a thousand years before she passed,” Thranduil said slowly, working to keep his voice and expression neutral. It’d been a very long time since he’d last spoken of her with anyone but Legolas, and he didn’t want his grief to overwhelm him again. He’d barely survived fading the last time. “She was a noble lady of the court and though our marriage was arranged, we found we fell in love anyway.”

Tauriel nodded slowly as she listened, seeming to school her own face into a blank expression as well. She was no doubt worried about setting him off, as she should be. No one had dared ask about Uirebes for centuries.

“She bore me Legolas, and took care of him while I took care of our kingdom. She was much loved, and knew the laws of other lands so well she often helped me prepare for meetings,” Thranduil continued, voice growing distant as he remembered. Uirebes had often schooled him on the ways of others while they sat together in their rooms, Legolas as a babe swaddled to her chest. It was a memory he’d preferred to forget.

“She passed... well, it doesn’t matter how she passed,” he mumbled, voice slowly growing stronger as he mentally returned to the present. Tauriel was looking at him with an expression of understanding and his face hardened somewhat, still sensitive over the topic. “She left me with Legolas and a kingdom to run and I just didn’t have any spare time to be able to fade. Between meetings, Legolas and day to day ruling, I didn’t have a chance to break down. Not until many years later.”

Tauriel nodded again and she took a breath, seeming to choose her words carefully. “Thank you for telling me of her,” she said quietly, giving Thranduil a small smile. It eased the expression on his face, and she in turn seemed to relax a little. “She must have been a great woman for you to love her so.”

Thranduil chuckled softly at that and looked away again. “She was indeed,” he agreed. Uirebes had been too good for even an elven king, and he’d often thought himself unworthy of her love. It only worsened when she died.

The noise his stomach made broke the silence between them and Thranduil cleared his throat, standing up as elegantly as he could. “Come along then, our dinner will be just about ready to be served and the trip to Dale has left me hungry.”

Tauriel took his proffered hand and let Thranduil pull her to her feet, her posture more relaxed now than it had been in a very long time. “Alright, let’s go then,” she agreed, following him out of her rooms and down towards their usual private dining area. “Can I ask something of you?”

Thranduil glanced at her as they walked, considering, before he nodded once. “Go ahead and ask, and I’ll grant your wish if I can,” he said after a moment, opening the door to the dining area and allowing her inside first before he followed.

“I want to be able to move about our lands without one of the guards or Feren or anyone else following me,” Tauriel managed, her voice strengthening with determination as she turned to face him. “I know my place here now and there’s no point trying to leave. I give you my word that I won’t. Will you not let me have some peace and privacy when I require it?”

Thranduil tilted his head slightly at that, considering it. Uirebes had hated having a guard too, and she’d complained about it to him every chance she’d gotten. But she had been a noble lady, untrained in any combat. Tauriel was a warrior, and she was smart enough to not go off on her own into a place where she might not be able to defend herself. It would be good, also, to give her another victory. She was becoming more and more relaxed and happy with his affections, and to deny her now would probably set them back a bit.

“I will allow it,” he finally said, moving past Tauriel and sitting down at the table. Tauriel looked at him with a shocked expression before she finally moved and sat opposite him.

“Really?” she asked after a moment, voice hesitant.

“Yes, but I will hold you to your word. You do not leave our lands on your own without permission, and you will not seek out spiders on your own,” Thranduil told her lightly, as servants entered and started putting dishes on the table before them. Thranduil turned his attention to the food and ignored Tauriel’s bright grin, already scheming. He wasn’t going to let her go off alone, not yet anyway. He’d just have to make sure Feren was never caught. Maybe in a little while, if she did not try to leave while under the impression she was not being followed, he could _actually_ allow it. For now, he was content to feed her pretty lies to keep that smile trained on him.

_*_

After three days Thranduil had to admit that Tauriel was keeping her word. She moved about the palace and the borders with grace and ease, and she never tried to leave beyond Mirkwood though she was under the impression she was alone. Feren had a special knack for staying unseen and Tauriel hadn’t noticed him once. Though it was a relief, Thranduil still felt reluctant when he gave Feren the order to stop following her. It made him uncomfortable knowing that she was a wild card, and that he’d have to just rely on her word.

The end of a busy day dealing with both Dale and Erebor trying to barter with him left him tense and annoyed, so he’d found himself a quiet part of the library to relax in before it was time for dinner. He’d managed to sit for all of five minutes with a book in front of him before Feren rushed in, looking around anxiously before he spotted Thranduil and headed straight towards him.

Thranduil sighed and shut his book again, sitting up straighter. It seemed he was not fated to get any rest or relaxation anytime soon. “What is it?” he asked in an annoyed tone when Feren stopped in front of him and bowed quickly.

“It’s the Lady Tauriel, my lord,” he started, barely concealing a wince when Thranduil’s expression went stony. “It is nothing serious, my lord, she merely cut open her leg while dealing with rogue orcs, but I thought you should be the first to know. She’s in the healing ward right now, being patched up.”

Thranduil was up and out of his seat before Feren finished talking, already heading towards the healing ward. He didn’t _hurry_ because he was a king and he didn’t hurry for any elf, and he already knew Tauriel wasn’t badly injured. His tense mood from earlier only worsened, and he was wearing a poisonous look when he finally shoved open the door to the ward and spotted Tauriel on a bed with Nestor bandaging up her leg.

“Can you not keep your word for even three measly days, vanimelda?” he demanded, making his way to Tauriel’s bedside. “There was no sweep scheduled, and yet you went out on your own to go fight. You gave me your word you would not be foolish with the freedom I gave you!”

Tauriel looked a little alarmed at his foul mood but Nestor didn’t even react. There was something about older healers that made them immune to fear of displeasing their royalty. It perhaps had something to do with Nestor knowing him since he was a babe. She kept tending to Tauriel’s leg, keeping her head down and ignoring them both.

“I gave you my word I wouldn’t seek out spiders, these were orcs,” Tauriel ventured, her voice hesitant. She winced when Nestor pulled the bandage tight around her wound, but she didn’t look away from Thranduil’s face.

“I have half a mind to lock you in your rooms for the remainder of this month,” Thranduil snapped, temper rising all the more at her feeble excuse. “You are to be the mother of my child, not some common soldier playing in the mud with orcs!”

“I feel more myself playing in the mud with orcs than I ever will be in your royal court!” Tauriel spat at him, sudden fury clouding her expression. She looked as if she would be throttling him if she could extract herself from Nestor to do so. “You cannot take the battle away from me, it will always be who I am, regardless of whether or not you lock me away.”

“What if you had been poisoned by their blades? You would not be fit to carry a child until you fully recovered,” Thranduil argued, his face flushing a little in anger. “I have been lenient with you, maethor, and you are throwing it in my face.”

Tauriel glared fiercely at him and yanked herself away as soon as Nestor was finished. “ _I_ have been lenient with _you_ , aran, I was nought but a lowly silvan elf to you once and that is all I’ll ever be! I am not your Uirebes, and you will not try to mould me into her!”

Thranduil reared back as if he’d been slapped, unable to stop the hurt from entering his expression before he managed to shut it down, his face becoming stone. Any other elf would have faced the sharp edge of his blade at such an insult, throwing the name of his late wife at him in anger, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to bring his hand to the dagger he always had strapped to his thigh.

Tauriel watched him warily, her face determined. She no doubt knew she’d crossed a line, hell, she’d crossed about a dozen all in the space of a few seconds, but she didn’t look like she’d back down. She raised her chin just slightly, challenging Thranduil.

Thranduil looked her over once before simply turning on his heel and leaving. He didn’t want to deal with Tauriel, and he didn’t know if he would ever want to again. The pain of losing Uirebes was again fresh in his heart, and now it was mingled with the betrayal he felt. He’d been nothing but respectful while Tauriel was suffering through her grief with Kili, and her words were anything _but_.

The door slammed behind him, satisfyingly loud, and Feren jumped from where he’d been waiting against the opposite wall. He gave Thranduil an alarmed look but didn’t dare to say anything.

“Take Lady Tauriel to her rooms and make sure she stays there until further notice,” Thranduil snapped, stalking back to his own rooms. “Deliver her food to her, she will be hungry after going orc hunting.”

Feren bowed before slipping into the healing ward quickly, no doubt to try and escape Thranduil’s wrath. Thranduil made his way to his rooms and immediately sat down at his desk. He’d penned out an entire letter to Legolas, demanding his son’s return because he just couldn’t _deal_ with even looking at Tauriel just then, let alone bedding her, before he realised he had no idea where Legolas even was. His son could be dead and in the stomach of a warg for all he knew, and it just made his mood that much worse.

Cursing, Thranduil screwed up the letter and threw it on the ground. He changed into lighter clothes before heading to the training area, the dozen or so elves already occupying it scattering when they caught sight of the look on Thranduil’s face.

He picked up a sword and went to work, going through the motions of practise though his mind wasn’t really there. It kept drifting back to Tauriel’s words and he’d get distracted, which only angered him more and made him that much more determined to focus. By the time he picked up a bow and quiver his muscles were aching from overuse and he felt no better.

Why did he have to end up with Tauriel of all elves as his consort? It was no fair, he mused as he let an arrow fly at one of their moving targets high up on the wall. It missed and clattered loudly as it fell back to the ground. Tauriel was too wild, too fierce, too disrespectful. She was the exact opposite of Uirebes, and she would no doubt cause him trouble for years to come.

And yet.

Another arrow missed it’s mark and Thranduil hissed in annoyance.

And yet, he could not keep his mind off her. He found his thoughts drifting to her often, especially when they were apart and he was in boring meetings. Her words would have made him angry even if a stranger had said them, but no one else would have been able to cause the level of hurt and _betrayal_ he was feeling. Tauriel was the exact opposite of an elf that he should want, and yet here he was.

His arrow hit the mark with a satisfying _clunk_ and Thranduil lowered his bow, brow furrowed in annoyance. When he’d first dragged Tauriel back to Mirkwood he’d only considered bedding her a mere duty, something that must be done. Wooing her was a duty too, something he had to do to keep her from fading, because he was king and she was his subject and it was the king’s duty to look after his people.

At some point it had changed. He didn’t understand why, or how, but Tauriel wasn’t his duty any longer. He kept her here, chained to his side, because that was where he _wanted_ her. He _wanted_ her in his bed, he _wanted_ her round with his child. And ultimately, that was what made it hurt the most. Because he knew all she wanted was to get the hell out, or to perhaps fade in peace. She did not want him in return, and she’d made that even more clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movies don't say much about Legolas' mother and I couldn't find anything via google, so I took some liberties. I had some fun looking up elven names though! 
> 
> vanimelda - adjective. beautiful and beloved, elven-fair, very beautiful  
> aran - noun. king, king, lord, chief, king/chief  
> maethor - noun. warrior
> 
> Every chapter I tend to abuse something in my writing, usually I tend to use a word far too many times, but it looks like I've been abusing the italics for this chapter, so apologies for that! Also, thank you to everyone who's bothered to read, kudos or leave comments! It means a lot.


	6. Landslide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_*_

Thranduil left Tauriel confined to her room for three days. He gave himself that time to stew in his own rage and betrayal, hating how affected he was over the whole thing and hating the little niggles of guilt for leaving her for so long. He knew someone like Tauriel would be going crazy confined like that, but the meaner side of him revelled in the knowledge that he might be hurting her back a little.

Eventually he realised he had to let her out at _some_ point, considering there was only a week left until their time was up and they had to try for an heir. Truthfully, Thranduil didn’t know if it was enough. With the setback of them both being furious at each other, a week was a very short time to get them to the point of being able to go to bed.

The more he thought about the situation, the more he hated it. Despite his hurt and anger, he had to admit there was some truth to Tauriel’s words. He’d been trying to change who she was as a person, mould her into the perfect little breeding cow to bear his child before tossing her aside. He might have been okay with it before all this, but after everything that had happened, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do it.

Above everything, he absolutely _despised_ the thought of the counsel, cold and unforgiving, forcing him into hurting one of his own subjects just to abide by an old, archaic law that he saw no need for. Not that he saw Tauriel as just a subject any more. He knew she was more, as much as he’d tried to resist it.

Thranduil was old, so very old, and time passed by like molasses for him. A month was just a mere drop in the ocean for an elf like him. It’d taken one hundred and fifty years, give or take, for his marriage to Uirebes to become something more than just a political arrangement. But there was something about Tauriel, her fire and fight and spirit, that made him feel like he had to _hurry_. She made time for him speed up, and he was slowly coming to admit to himself that it wouldn’t take one hundred and fifty years for them. Probably not even one.

Thranduil had given the order for her to be released but he made sure Feren was following her again, not knowing if she would keep her word after he’d imprisoned her again. But she did, and the next time he saw her was at dinner time.

He was settled at the table, pointedly ignoring the empty seat across from him, when Tauriel pushed the door open and stepped inside. She looked at him with hesitation in her expression before she slowly made her way to the seat and slipped into it.

“I want to apologize,” she said after a long pause, in which Thranduil had not bothered looking up from where he was admiring the silver of his cutlery. Her voice was soft but not cowed, and sounded sincere. “I spoke out of turn and I was rude about someone you cared for very much.”

Thranduil leaned back slowly and finally looked up at her, considering his words carefully. He almost wanted to be petty and just ignore her, but that would get them no where. They had seven days left, and the time constraint was weighing heavily on his mind. “Apology accepted,” he said smoothly, his face blank. He felt like there was a wall between them now, no more easy conversations and casual touches. Her words had stung, and the ice that had started to melt had frozen over again.

Tauriel’s expression morphed into a frown, and she fidgeted, fingers worrying at the edges of the table cloth. “I thought you would be more... angry,” she said carefully, looking dubious at his easy acceptance.

“Three days is plenty of time to get over a tiny little insult, even if you did see fit to bring up my dead wife,” Thranduil said coldly, ignoring the servants who were filing in and setting plates in front of them. “Do not think too highly of yourself, she-elf.”

Tauriel looked a little hurt at that but she only nodded, looking down at her plate. She poked at the food listlessly before starting to eat, and Thranduil did the same. He knew he should be trying his hardest to get them back on track, but his natural defence was to just shut down and go cold, and he couldn’t help himself. Opening himself back up to her, even just a little, would only give her more opportunities to hurt him.

“I won’t go out to the edges of our lands again, nor join the guard’s on their sweeps,” Tauriel spoke up after a few minutes of uneasy silence. “I understand you need me to be healthy, and I took a stupid risk.”

Thranduil’s grip on his fork tightened ever so slightly, his only outward reaction. He knew he should be pleased, but there had been _truth_ to Tauriel’s words. Her soul and her spirit loved the fight and she would never be satisfied with the life he – no, the counsel, wanted for her. He didn’t want her to have to give it up, but he had to admit he was a little bit pleased that she would offer in the first place. She had grown to be more than just a duty to him, and perhaps he’d grown to be more than just a captor and tyrant king to her.

“You may continue to join the guard, however there will be no going off on your own again,” he said eventually. His posture relaxed ever so slightly, her willingness to try and appease him working to soothe some of his hurt. “You are a capable fighter, but I will not take risks.”

Tauriel looked surprised at that and she nodded quickly, giving him a hesitant smile. “Thank you, and I give you my word I won’t take risks like that again.”

Thranduil made an agreeing noise but he lapsed into a brooding silence, looking down at the beautifully prepared food on his plate. Tauriel was just being so agreeable, and it was putting him off. He was used to her spitting fire at him, fighting tooth and nail for everything she was entitled to. He felt like he was winning even though he’d given up.

_*_

Seven days passed by in the blink of an eye. Thranduil had a bout of business when dwarves from Erebor had snuck onto his lands and he’d had to deal with Dain over their safe return. Tauriel went back to the guards each day but they saw each other at meal times, though their interactions were stiff and one-sided. Thranduil couldn’t bring himself to be warm with her again and Tauriel always looked a little sad when they spoke.

Thranduil spent the night before the end of the month sitting up in a plush armchair by his bed, sipping wine and staring at the sheets. He was bound by law to take Tauriel there the next night, and despite his slowly blossoming feelings for her, he wasn’t enthused about the prospect.

Over the course of the month he’d entertained the idea idly, imagining what it may be like. If she’d be meek and submissive, or spitting fire like she did when she fought. But now that it was right around the corner, he couldn’t imagine any of those things. All he could imagine was Tauriel screwing up her face and trying to will herself somewhere else as he struggled not to lose his erection at her obvious distaste.

They weren’t there yet. They were in no way ready for it and without at least the most base of fondness for each other, she wouldn’t conceive. There were ways around that of course, but they hadn’t been used in millennia and Thranduil didn’t want to use them now. Tauriel didn’t deserve to be chained to that life, to be fed horrid medication just so she could fall pregnant with the child of the man imprisoning her.

And that, really, was the base of it. Peeling back all the different complicated layers of the issue, that was the biggest one of all. Thranduil was keeping her a prisoner in her own home, and how could he expect anything but hatred to come from that?

When he finished his wine, Thranduil chose instead to sleep in empty chambers meant for guests, unable to face his own bed. By the time the sun was peeking through his windows, he’d hardened his resolve. Something had to change.

_*_

Tauriel looked nervous at breakfast but that was to be expected. She knew the significance of this day just as well as he did. Thranduil did nothing to try and soothe her, as annoyed as he still was at her, but he did stop on his way out of the dining room. “Meet me at the stables after lunch. I wish to go on a ride.”

He left before she could protest, and he went about doing his business. He had to keep everything quiet, lest word get back to the counsel, so he did it all himself rather than asking someone else to do it. He stopped for a quick lunch in the kitchens before meeting Tauriel at the stables, taking in her confused expression.

His elk wasn’t in the mood to be ridden today, so he’d settled for a fine horse instead. Tauriel’s horse was laden with supplies, and had a sword as well as Tauriel’s bow and quiver strapped to it. Tauriel opened her mouth as if to question him, but she closed it again when he shot her a look. She seemed to understand his silent order to _wait_.

It was only when they were at the very edge of their lands, the forest lighter and sparser, did she speak. “What’s going on?” she asked, glancing around them. They were alone save for the creatures in the forest, though she didn’t know that. Perhaps she was wary of Feren lurking around a corner watching them.

“The horse you’re on has supplies that will last you for at least a few weeks, more if you ration,” Thranduil started, voice devoid of emotion as he dismounted his horse and moved to Tauriel’s, checking her packs were closed properly and hadn’t been tampered with. “You’ve got weapons and a few spare clothes as well.”

“What are you talking about? Why do I need supplies?” Tauriel asked, brow furrowing. She was clever witted, however, and he had no doubt she was already starting to figure it out.

“I am reinstating your banishment,” Thranduil said coldly, stepping back from her horse to look up at her face. He couldn’t tell if her reaction was more angry or shocked at his words. “You will leave and never come back. If you have any sense you’ll find yourself a home in Lothlorien, or somewhere far from here.”

Tauriel gave him a withering look and dismounted, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re banishing me for what I said? I apologized and you accepted!” she argued, kicking aside stray leaves on the ground. “Do you hate me so much that you’d risk the wrath of the people for not producing another heir?”

“I risk the wrath of the people for the exact opposite reason, Tauriel,” Thranduil hissed, starting to grow angry despite himself. He’d imagined that she’d have ridden off without a backwards glance, he hadn’t expected her to argue with him. Though really, he should have. Tauriel just loved to argue with him. “I am a king and my word should be law. I can handle my idiotic counsel and the rest of the people. Get out of here.”

Tauriel gave him a look and crossed her arms over her chest, studying his face. He didn’t like how closely she was looking, and he carefully pulled his expression into his default stone cold look. He didn’t want to have to explain himself.

“You’re letting me go,” she said slowly, after a minute of silence. “No one else knows, you’re letting me go now that the month is up because you can’t go through with it.”

Thranduil glowered at her at her words despite the truth in them, taking a step closer to her. “Get on your horse and _leave_ ,” he hissed.

Tauriel just rolled her eyes at him and stepped back. “Don’t be an idiot, you need an heir and I’ve accepted my place,” she snapped, climbing onto her horse and nudging it so it was facing towards the palace rather than away.

Thranduil reached out and grabbed her ankle before he could stop himself, gritting his teeth. Arguing was something he should have expected, but downright refusal wasn’t anything he could have ever foreseen. “You are...” he paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. More arguments would get them nowhere, and he found that he didn’t want Tauriel leaving while angry at him.

Tauriel looked down at him, focusing on the hand on her ankle, but she waited patiently for him to finish and didn’t try to shake his hold off her.

“You are worth so much more, vanimelda,” he said eventually, shaking his head. “You were not meant for this life and I do not wish it on you. Leave and find a home elsewhere.”

Tauriel’s expression softened and she reached out, settling a hand on his shoulder. Her thumb was resting on the bare skin of his neck and it felt like it almost burned. “You are far more kind hearted than you would like people to believe,” she said quietly, looking him over.

Thranduil let that sit for a moment, savouring her touch and her praise before he stepped back again, letting her go.

“Leave,” he said quietly, and this time she listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late and also shorter chapter, I've been busy with work this week but I tried to get this out as fast as I could. Thank you to everyone who's bothered to read, kudos or leave comments! It means a lot.


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